Concealed
by Inwenalas
Summary: He wouldn't exactly say it, but Danny's more of a mother hen than he cares to admit. Slash: Steve/Danny.


**Concealed**

Summary: He wouldn't exactly admit it, but Danny's more of a mother hen than he cares to admit. Slash: Steve/Danny.

Genre: humor; h/c

A/N: My first attempt at writing a slashy fic. I've officially left my gen comfort zone, but to be honest I really enjoyed writing this. I hope you will enjoy reading this.

Disclaimer: If you seriously think I own this show you need help, Danny will pay for it. -nods- (I love that quote way too much)

Written for my bestie slowdead (LJ). I hope you like it honey.

ALSO, a big THANK YOU to my bestie define_serenity (LJ) for being an awesome beta

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Danny Williams is not very fond of running after suspects, especially if they decide to turn that run into a small hike through a damn jungle. His partner _and best friend_ Steve McGarrett would later argue that they weren't moving through an actual jungle and that they weren't in the middle of nowhere. Tomato, _tomato_.

Chasing a suspect in a car is supposed to be routine police work. Suspects run all the time. Danny and Steve just didn't expect the man to stop, abandon his car and run like hell for the tree line. It's actually kind of funny when you look at it. Danny's never seen a man leave his car that fast before. No wait, that's a lie, there was that one time his brother needed to pee, in the middle of a small road trip. His brother jumped out of the car and ran like hell. But bladder relief is generally a _good _excuse for fleeing.

Their suspect, Brenton Dale, isn't an idiot. He's used to running and he knows the territory. He's fully aware of what he's doing when he pulls over and starts his run.

The truth, to Danny anyway, is that they _are_ in the middle of nowhere, so that means no immediate back-up, let alone immediate _anything_. _Fucked up situation_. Of course Steve's out of the car before Danny can even touch the passenger's door. Danny wonders what he ever did to anyone to deserve a partner like Steve.

They run and, guess what, they run some more. Uphill, Danny should add. He has no idea where their suspect is headed and he's not sure if they're catching up or not. Dale is good, he has to give the man that much. The bastard runs for a living. Danny, on the other hand, hates running. It's one of those things he doesn't like about being a detective, but he always manages to keep up, _more or less_. It's an unfair fight most of the time. Steve has so much adrenaline coursing through his body the man could explode. _Unfair_. Not that Danny minds his partner doing all the flying tackles. After all, Danny needs to look after that knee of his.

He should know by now: there's nothing routine about chasing an unarmed suspect, especially if the person running beside you thinks he's some kind of freaking superhero. Steve's not a self-sacrificing bastard on purpose, he knows that, but the man could at least _try_ to think of less drastic approaches. That's the problem really, drastic is the only word Steve knows. _Why bother?_ If there's anything he will never be able to change, it's his partner's protective streak. It's unfair and Danny hates that his partner messes with his feelings like this. Steve McGarrett might not care that much about his own safety, but _he_ cares and Steve needs to get that through that thick superhero skull of his.

Danny can see a road not far ahead and he silently wishes their chase ends there. He's not grasping at straws here, his suspect really is slowing down a little, enough for Steve to get closer. Another flying tackle in the near future wouldn't surprise him. For a superhero Steve lacks the heightened senses which are supposed to go hand in hand with that status. Even he, a detective with no special superhero Navy training, can hear the car coming.

"Steve!" he yells, the most fruitless use of his voice in years.

It doesn't count as a flying tackle but it's close. If it wasn't for the car hitting his partner, the tackle would've been close to perfect. That's when Danny wonders if Steve was going for an actual tackle, because, to him, it sure looked like he was trying to push their suspect out of the car's way. No wait, it didn't just look that way.

He can only wonder why Steve deems his life so unimportant. _Suicidal tendencies_, that's what he calls that kind of behavior. Danny means that. The day _he_ decides to jump in front of a car to save a running suspect, is the day he needs to quit his job, also known as the day he needs to seek psychological help. To save a killer of all people. No, this is wrong, plain wrong. No one cares if this bastard lives or dies. No one but SuperSEAL of course.

Danny's not concerned when he sees the bruise on their suspect's face, or when he sees that the man's eyes are closed. He moves on automatic pilot and secures Dale's hands before feeling for a pulse. At the same time he curses the driver of the car for speeding away, but deep down he's pretty sure there's an upside too. For starters, his hands aren't choking the man behind the wheel. _What was that car doing here anyway?_

It takes every inch of willpower to refrain from strangling Dale though. Screw the rules this time, it's personal. Danny leaves Dale onthe side of the road and moves to his partner, _who also happens to be his boyfriend_. Life has a way of surprising Danny, because he would've never thought he'd get attached to a case-stealing asshole. He can't blame his partner though.

He taps Steve's face lightly. When he doesn't get a response he tries again, only this time a little harder. And yeah, his partner deserves it for being an idiot.

"Did you … book 'em, Danno?"

The SEAL opens his eyes and Danny catches the confusion and pain there.

"Cuffed and unconscious right over there," Danny informs, pointing to the right.

Steve follows Danny's finger with his head and is not entirely surprised to see their suspect lying face down in the sand in what looks like a very uncomfortable position with his hands cuffed behind his back. They're on a dirt road surrounded by grass and a couple of trees.

"The driver?"

"Decided to go for a hit and run. Personally, I'm more in a hit and kill kind of mood."

Steve manages to throw him a surprised look.

"We'll get him," Danny assures while trying to dig his cellphone out of his pocket. Now's not the time to get angry. Not yet anyway.

"We'll be faster if we go back to the car." He tries to sit up but the New Jersey detective stops him right away.

"You're bleeding, babe."

Steve touches the back of his head and looks surprised when his hand comes back sticky with blood. Danny blames the stoic behavior on the adrenaline still rushing through Steve's body.

"I can make it."

Pushing Steve down again, Danny uses his thumb to remind him of their suspect a little further.

"What about him? I'm not carrying him all the way back to the car. Downhill or not."

The SEAL looks ready to object, but Danny raises his hand.

"I'm making this call whether you like it or not. You just stay put."

He knows Steve is listening to his every word, even with his eyes closed.

"Steve, where are we?"

Danny breathes an audible sigh of relief when his partner reaches for the phone in his hand. Steve is good at this kind of thing. Somewhere in between Steve's explanation he hears the words 'track this call, Kono', and Danny can't help smiling. _Good_, but not perfect.

"They're on their way."

Danny nods before accepting his phone. He trusts Chin and Kono to find them and call an ambulance. He trusts the two of them more than he trusts 911 operators.

"If we're going to wait I'm not staying in the middle of the road. Traffic or no traffic. Help me up."

All he wants to do is protest and remind Steve of the complete lack of traffic, but there's something about that tree a little further that looks more comfortable than the dirt road they're currently enjoying. The grass looks a lot more comfortable as well and then there's the fact they will be closer to their suspect. _Easier to shoot if he decides to move_.

Helping Steve get into a sitting position turns out to be a lot harder than expected. The SEAL's breathing hard after only a few seconds and Danny finds himself supporting Steve's body.

"Okay, you're keeping something from me. Where are you hurt?"

Steve quickly opens his eyes and throws his partner an apologetic look.

"Hip. Bruised I think," Steve admits.

"Oh fantastic, when were you planning on mentioning this little detail?"

"Wasn't," Steve manages to say in between breaths. "I thought it was pretty obvious since I got hit by what looked like a car."

Danny ignores the sarcasm. It's official, not only does his partner have _a face_, he has a tone too. Steve is never accusing him again of having a tone. From now on he will throw that argument right back in his face. Their conversations are a lot like ping pong come to think of it. Table tennis reminds him of his youth, but these days he only appreciates the verbal kind.

"Even better. You still want to go through with this? Because if the answer is yes we should probably move your dumb ass before you pass out."

Steve gives Danny a short nod.

"What am I going to do with you?"

This time Danny doesn't give his partner the chance to reply. "Never mind, you're just going to say something dirty and ignore me. Let me remind you that we have an audience."

"Didn't… say anything."

Danny throws Steve's arm over his own shoulders and wraps his other arm around Steve's middle, careful not to touch his hip.

"Let me do most of the work. This is going to-"

"Don't…say it."

The detective helps, _half drags_, his partner to the tree a little further and he can't help being grateful nature decided to plant the damn thing here and not two feet further.

Danny lowers Steve down and makes sure the man's comfortable enough before he can fall asleep. He doesn't release his hold on his partner and he sure as hell doesn't mind Steve's head leaning on his shoulder.

When Steve reopens his eyes not much later, Danny looks ready to complain.

"There are ants all over me now. This is your fault."

Macho behavior is definitely overrated.

Danny's trying to ignore the situation he finds himself in. Clinging, on a mental level, to the ants crawling all over the left side of his pants, seems like the obvious thing to do. This way he doesn't have to focus on the blood covering his tie and dress shirt, Steve's blood. Head injuries tend to bleed like hell, he reminds himself. Given that little fact, Steve's head doesn't look too bad. Just bad enough to ruin his clothes.

"There's something wrong with this picture, you know that?" Danny says, not entirely sure where he's going with this. Maybe it's just a way to continue talking.

"What is?"

"You're seriously asking me that? Or are you just trying to keep up the conversation, the conversationalist you are and all that."

Steve blinks in reply.

"You, bleeding out in my arms. In the middle of nowhere I should add."

Deep down Danny hopes the exaggeration tells Steve how much he cares and what an ass he is for making him worry like this. Even if it isn't too serious, this is _wrong_. He desperately wants to check Steve's hip just to be on the safe side, but since they made it this far he decides to give SuperSEAL the benefit of the doubt. Bruised and a little swollen doesn't mean life threatening.

"Covered in ants," Steve adds.

Danny watches his partner get rid of the ants on his arms, in a much too gentle fashion. The detective is more inclined to swat them like he would a mosquito, but something stops him. He can't even explain why he refrains from using a little violence. Maybe Steve is rubbing off on him. Not that Steve is the gentle one in this partnership, no, that's a definite no. Steve's like Ramboon freaking steroids.

"I hate you, you know that? You're a selfish bastard."

There's no hate behind the words. There's just worry and something vibrant he himself can't quite describe.

Steve gives him the faintest of smiles. "I hate you too, Danno."

How can they be so different but so much alike? Maybe it's true that opposites attract. Neither of them regret that they can say all the wrong things with all the right meanings. It's just how they deal with being partners. They don't go for the simple scenic route. Even if just for today, the scenic route would've been much more preferable. Then again, they aren't exactly opposites. Danny just won't admit that he has a Rambo streak too.

Danny sees his partner's eyelids close.

"Hey, Steve." He gives the SEAL a careful nudge.

Steve's eyes open again and Danny notices he was holding his breath.

"You never told me why it's so damn difficult to get a doctor around here."

"'s not difficult."

"How is this not difficult?"

"Just takes a while sometimes."

Danny knows what he's saying. _When you find yourself in the middle of nowhere_. Because _really_, any place with more than two trees feels like the middle of nowhere to Danny. He can't help it. Street names on every corner tend to increase his comfort level. He misses New Jersey, but there's so much convincing him that Hawaii is not nearly as bad as he once believed. _So many people_ who convince him to stay, _want_ him to stay. Not just Gracie, even if his monkey is the main reason for his initial stay.

"You think they crashed the ambulance?"

Steve gives him a look.

"What's that? Your obsessive-compulsive face? No wait, let me rephrase that, I don't even know what kind of a face that is. You're not in control here, you might as well get comfortable."

"Funny. Doesn't have the same ring to it though."

"I'd say sarcasm doesn't suit you, but I'm not sure."

_It's kind of sexy_.

_What is he doing?_ Why does this conversation feel so comfortable. He's worried out of his mind, but still there's something grounding him. _Someone_ grounding him.

"Stubborn fool."

"I… think I know how you feel by now."

"Idiot."

No, that's not what he's feeling at all and he gets the idea that Steve knows as much. He grabs Steve's hand and squeezes it softly. Feeling Steve's body relax in his hold, Danny allows himself to calm down a little as well. He leans a little closer and presses his lips against Steve's right temple.

"Taking advantage, Detective Williams?"

"Just sleep, _Steven_."

Danny is pretty sure he can hear the ambulance in the distance now.

"Scary," Steve admits.

The detective gives his friend a worried look, before squeezing the man's hand again. "I know."

"No, not that. No more…insults."

Before he even realizes a smile creeps on his face.

"I've run out."

Steve shakes his head in reply. "I don't believe that."

"Then don't. Any special requests while we're at it?"

"I think I like babe. Yeah, stick to babe."

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"My son's alive?"

When he talks to Dale's mother, Danny realizes that he was wrong. Someone cares, _enough_ to visit a killer in jail. Better a son behind bars than one six feet under.

Danny nods in reply.

He understands now. This is just who Steve is and if they're going to live together he's going to have to accept the fact that Steve's willing to do anything even if that involves saving a killer in order to make that man's family feel better. Ohana doesn't just mean family, it means _Steve in a nutshell_. If there's really only one word in his partner's dictionary then it's not drastic. Sometimes being wrong can feel good too, he realizes.

Danny is happy to leave most of the work up to Chin and Kono. Especially on a day like today when he needs to take care of someone special.

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The hospital's way too quiet and frankly, Danny wants to leave again the moment he reaches the nurse's desk. His mind can't help flashing back to Gracie's birth. The squeaky clean floor,the smell of antiseptic, not to mention all the sick people. He's probably the only person in the world who wants to hit those hospital clowns in the face for spreading ridiculous happiness. The truth is that he's jealous for not seeing things the way they do. He can't see hope or happiness in this place.

"I'm here for Steve McGarrett."

Danny watches the tall blonde abuse the keyboard. He's sure she's going to destroy some of those keys, if not all of them, either today or tomorrow. Maybe it's the stress of the job bringing her down a bit. Whatever it is, she scares Danny more than a little.

"He's still receiving treatment. You can wait in the waiting area."

_No kidding_.

"Thanks."

He can do polite, _if necessary_. As long as she doesn't attack him, he can put up a façade. He doesn't have to like her. With his hands in his pockets he makes his way to the emotional torture room. These areas are designed to mess with people's thoughts. It's basically impossible to stay positive when there's an old lady sobbing two chairs away. He's not supposed to talk to her, right?

_Please d__on't make me talk to her._

His shoes become increasingly interesting and Danny manages to ignore the situation for at least ten seconds.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

_Brilliant_ of course. It's obvious the woman's not okay. If Danny could slap himself without looking stupid, he wouldn't hesitate.

The old woman doesn't look up like he half expects her to. Instead she covers her face with her right hand and heads for the exit.

"Great."

He's alone now, which only adds to his frustration. How difficult can it be to get some information on his partner's condition? He's not asking for a detailed psychological report. _That would take forever_.

His partner looked fine earlier. What's taking them so long now? He ends up fearing the possibilities he shouldn't even be considering.

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Danny's falling, as if Steve's gravity is pulling him down and all he can do is follow that magnetic force, even if that force is annoyingly persistent and stubborn.

He really _really_ hates anything connected to hospitals, even the seemingly innocent parking lots. There's no logic involved whatsoever and Danny's sure the infrastructure is designed to trip people. It's probably a conspiracy led by the government. Danny manages to ignore the other loose tiles on his way to the car. He's been a victim of this conspiracy before and he won't be a victim again. He stops pushing Steve's wheelchair for a moment.

"Okay, why are we stopping here?"

Danny just needs a minute to think, a moment to gather his thoughts.

"Danno?"

Why would he need to explain anything in the middle of a parking lot? Why would he need to explain anything that's so obvious it makes his heart ache. After Rachel, Danny thought he would never settle down again, soldier on and leave no footprints in the sand you're muddling through. He's going to avoid this conversation as long as possible.

"What in the world did you have for breakfast?" he asks instead.

"Deflection. Duly noted. And for your information it's all muscle you're pushing here. That and the ice pack."

That's when the worry comes flooding back and Danny starts feeling like an asshole for not understanding Steve earlier.

"Chin told me the driver was working for Dale and was supposed to help him escape."

It's not a very subtle way of changing the subject, but he knows that Steve will just follow. Not because he's clairvoyant, but because it's as if they share a brain or something. It's like playing table tennis (again), but not taking advantage of your partner's weakness. Danny continues pushing the wheelchair.

"By nearly hitting him?"

"I'm pretty sure he was only supposed to pick him up. Until he saw us."

"I guess that explains the speeding away part. I bet his career as a driver is over after this little incident." Steve hesitates for a moment before looking up. "We're not talking about Dale or the driver here, are we?"

"This _little_ incident could've killed you."

Steve doesn't reply, there's no witty comeback, no face and certainly no tone.

All Danny knows is that he can't do this right now. He can't just continue a conversation that expects him to open up like he's never opened up before. That door has to stay closed for now. It's just ironic that he wants that door open.

Danny helps Steve in the car and while the silence is uncomfortable, it's also a sign that there's a lot of thinking going on. Either way it will lead to _something_ and Danny can only hope it will lead where he wants it to lead.

By the time Danny reaches the pharmacy, Steve's asleep in the passenger's seat. The seat's all the way down and his partner looks comfortable enough. It lifts some of the worry, but he still doesn't have the heart to wake him up.

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Danny's grateful SuperSEAL owns a decent couch, because there's no way he's going to make his partner go up all those stairs, no way he's _letting_ him do that. The question is not _if_ he's going to stop Steve, the question is _how_.

He's supposed to pick up Gracie tomorrow, but by the looks of it Gracie won't be the only one to babysit. Danny's supporting most of his partner's weight when he leads him to the couch. Normally he'd make a comment on Steve's lack of speed, but given the situation that would just be cruel. He didn't exactly sleep in the wrong position this time around. If only it was that simple.

"Almost there," he says. He doesn't have to look to know Steve's eyes are squeezed shut by now.

"Okay, we're here."

"Already?"

Oh yes, Steve has a tendency of throwing in quite a bit of sarcasm when things don't go the way he wants them to. Danny helps him sit but stops Steve when he wants to lie down.

"Let me get you those magic pills first."

"You should know by now that I don't need the blue pills."

Danny throws him a bewildered and relatively innocent look.

"You officially have a face," Steve adds, while taking deep breaths in between his words.

Danny just shakes his head in reply.

"You can barely walk and all you can think about is sex. That's just wrong, babe. I was referring to those nice painkillers we picked up."

Danny raises his right index finger and stops the SEAL from replying.

"I'm heading to the kitchen right now."

Danny's quick when he makes Steve a sandwich. Together with a glass of innocent water (Steve will complain about – because apparently beer is the way to go when you're taking heavy duty painkillers) and the pills, he brings the sandwich to the couch where he left both Steve and his alter ego John McClane. Shoot first, ask questions later.

Danny sits down next to Steve and hands him both the glass and one of the pills.

"I don't even want to hear it."

Steve wouldn't _dare_ go against Danny's wishes (obviously), but the detective is sure that his partner welcomes both the food and the pill. Not that he'd admit that or thank him.

"Thanks, Danno."

Danny learns something new every single day. Steve isn't completely incapable of showing sentiment and putting it in actual words. He refrains from saying _good boy_ when he gets the now empty glass back.

Steve only eats half of the sandwich but Danny's happy nevertheless.

"Need anything else?" he offers like the perfect nursemaid he is.

"You will do."

Before he even knows it, there's a huge smile on his face. Steve lies down, his head on Danny's thigh.

"Comfortable?" Danny asks.

"I am. Are you?"

"Am I? Well, you're not bleeding all over my tie this time."

"You do realize that I was doing you a favor, right?"

"What? Like a freaking fashion statement?"

"More along the lines of a date with the garbage can."

A short snort escapes Danny's mouth and he rests his hand on Steve's right shoulder. Leaning forward slowly, he softly kisses Steve on the lips.

"Don't," Steve says, breaking the kiss a little early.

Danny pulls back, trying to hide the confusion on his face.

"What? Kiss you? It's a little late for that."

"No. _Leave_. Don't leave."

For a moment, he doesn't know how to respond.

"I'm not planning on leaving you. Ever."

"I'm sorry, for worrying you."

Danny shakes his head. "No, I'm sorry, for thinking you have suicidal tendencies when you clearly don't. You don't risk your life because you don't care about it, _or me_ for that matter."

"I don't mean to worry anyone."

"I know, babe, I know."

Steve doesn't wait for Danny to move again, instead he pulls the detective's face closer until their lips meet again. They're on the exact same wavelength here.

Three words (he will never say out loud in front of Steve) pop up in Danny's head._ Yippee-ki- yay._

**The end**

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A/N: Reviews are more than welcome.


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